


From Your Brain to Mine

by candlesneedflame



Series: The Teenage Vigilante's Guide [9]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-20 03:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20668379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candlesneedflame/pseuds/candlesneedflame
Summary: You went crazy, went stupid, in my ask box.This is the work where I will post all of the ask prompt fics I get over on tumblr. Each chapter is unrelated unless I say otherwise. These all take place in the Teenage Vigilante's Guide. I'll make a separate work for ones that don't take place in the Teenage Vigilante's Guide.





	1. Peter Worrying the Gang for 400 Words Straight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Peter saying some dark gen z jokes and the defenders being concerned while wade jokes with Pete too"

“So, split up and regroup at mine, yeah?” Jessica says, shaking out her hand from where she’d thrown a punch and hit the wall instead of her target.

“That’s the only way we’ll be able to avoid the cops,” Matt agrees, tilting his head. “Speaking of, they’re about two blocks out now. Luke, you got Danny?”

“Got him,” Luke says, tightening his hold on their definitely concussed friend to keep him upright. 

“Good. Spidey, you got enough webs to make it to Jess’s place?” Matt asks, turning his attention to Peter.

The warehouse is littered with webbing from Peter’s new and improved web shooters. These ones have different settings much like the ones that the Stark suit was equipped with, and he’d been using the web-bomb setting pretty religiously to block off the exits and restrain the horde of gangsters. 

Peter shrugs. “I mean, I think so. But we’ll just have to wait and see if I run out and plummet to my death because sometimes it be like that.”

One by one, Jessica, Matt, Luke, and even Danny turn their varied concerned looks on Peter while Wade just nods in agreement.

“It really do.”

* * *

“I need a fucking drink,” Mat groans, rubbing at his temples.

Peter’s not sure how effective that is through the mask, but at least it makes Matt look incredibly done with everything that’s going on,

“Me too,” he says, nodding solemnly. “Preferably bleach.”

Matt whips his head up to look in Peter’s direction, but before he can say anything Wade chimes in.

“Bleach is alright, but I prefer a nice drain cleaner.”

* * *

Someone’s been smuggling drugs inside animals being delivered to the Central Park Zoo, hence the reason Spider-Man, Daredevil, Deadpool, and the Iron Fist are sneaking in after hours—to see who it is that’s retrieving the drugs once they, um, make their way through the animals.

As they walk silently through the zoo, Peter looks into the animals’ enclosures out of curiosity. He’s never been in a zoo at night before, and he has no idea when he will be again.

As they pass by the snow leopards, Peter gets a good look at the cats tearing into a large chunk of meat hanging from a tree.

“_God_ I wish that was me,” he whispers emphatically.

Matt’s gotten pretty used to the jokes by this point, so he just sighs, but Danny turns around looking _highly_ concerned.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

Before Peter can answer, Wade’s saving him once again.

“Been there, done that, not as permanent a solution as I’d hoped for.”


	2. Superhero, But Make it Sexy for 1000 words straight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "team red halloween?"

“I’m sorry but what the actual _fuck_ are those?” Peter chokes out as he stares at what Wade is holding in horror.

“Our Halloween costumes!” Wade announces proudly because clearly he didn’t catch the disgust in Peter’s voice.

“No way in hell am I wearing that now or ever. Keep dreaming,” he replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Maatttt~” Wade whines, looking over to the man who’s sitting nearby.

“Peter, what are the costumes?” he asks.

“They’re us but sexy,” Peter answers, and that didn’t come out quite right.

“Speak for yourself, Spidey, I think Matty’s already sexy,” Wade corrects.

“Oh for fuck’s sake—Sexy Spider-Man? Desirable Daredevil? Delicious Deadpool? That’s awful, that’s terrible, Matt can I please sue whoever made them,” Peter says, stepping forward to take one of the costumes from Wade to inspect it further.

“I think you’d have to prove you’re Spider-Man to do that, and I don’t think glorified latex lingerie is a good enough cause to publicly unmask yourself,” Matt replies as Wade hands him the sexy Daredevil costume to feel or whatever it is he does to understand how it looks.

“How are you so chill about this?” Peter asks because honestly, he was expecting Matt to be pretty uptight about this sort of thing. The costumes all manage to incorporate stilettos, garters, and excessive amounts of cleavage.

Matt just shrugs as he feels one of the various straps of the costume through the plastic bag it’s in. “Last year he tried to get me to be a sexy altar boy, so this is definitely better. What’re the other costumes?”

“_Other costumes?!_”

“Yeah, there are two more in the bag over there,” Matt says, tilting his head towards a plastic bag on the floor.”

Peter stares in horror as Wade reaches into the bag and pulls out two more Halloween costumes.

“This one is Provocative Punisher—I’m gonna bring it to Frank later, and this one is Sister Sinful, to keep with the Catholic theme you’ve got going, Matt,” Wade explains, holding up the costumes.

“They make sexy nun costumes?” Peter asks.

“They make sexy everything costumes, kiddo,” Wade confirms with a nod.

“Forget it, Wade. I’m not wearing this. For one, it’s a costume for ladies—”

“Say no more!” Wade interrupts before turning and practically sprinting out of Matt’s apartment.

“I really feel like I needed to say more,” Peter says as he stares at the door.

Matt just pats his back gently

* * *

“Voila!” Wade announces with a flourish as he hands Peter an innocuous black box before presenting Matt with an identical one. There’s another still in his hands.

“Wade,” Peter asks cautiously. “What are these?”

“Open them up and see!”

Matt rips the lid off the box and tosses it to the side. “Wow. This is wonderful,” he says in a perfect deadpan. “Gorgeous. Yes, fabric and metal. How amazing.”

Peter looks over to see inside Matt’s box and can’t contain the exhausted groan.

“Wade, please tell me that’s not _another_ sexy Daredevil costume,” he practically begs.

“Now, Spidey, that’s not just a sexy Daredevil costume. That’s a deluxe, custom, hand-made Divine Daredevil costume,” Wade answers as he takes it out of the box and holds it up for Peter to see, from Venetian Daredevil mask to thigh-high stiletto boots.

The costume itself actually covers a bit more than the cheaply made store-bought costumes had, and it’s very obviously good quality. The buckles and straps on this one actually serve a purpose, and the details on it are truly amazing. But that is so not the point.

“Wade, where did you even get that?” Peter asks tiredly. He’s really not looking forward to opening his own box now.

“Get it?” Wade scoffs. “I _made_ it. Got your measurements from Melvin and everything, so I know they’re perfect. Open yours, Pete!”

Peter sighs and pulls the lid off like he’s ripping off a band-aid.

Sure enough, staring back at him is a Spider-Man Venetian mask alongside a pair of thigh-high boots with the exact same raised metal detailing as his actual suit. Unlike Matt’s one-piece costume, this one consists of a pair of shorts and a long-sleeved Spider-Man crop top. It really is incredibly well made, but Peter still throws a glare in Wade’s direction.

“I am _not_ wearing that,” he says.

“But it’s not a girl’s costume this time,” Wade replies.

Peter _knew_ he needed to say more. “Jesus, Wade. I’m not wearing a sexy anything costume—men’s or women’s! I’m sixteen!”

“Ohhhh,” Wade says, looking thoroughly chastised for once in his life. “I kinda forgot about that part.”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest. “Yeah.”

“Sincerely sorry for that, Peter. Third time’s the charm anyway, yeah?” he says before heading out abruptly once again

“Third time? Oh please don’t tell me he’s gonna try again.”

“He’s gonna try again,” Matt confirms as he continues to poke at the sexy Daredevil costume.

* * *

“I think I really nailed it this time,” Wade says proudly.

This time all three of them are standing on a rooftop in full costume, getting ready to crash a drug deal at the docks. Not exactly an opportune time to be discussing what to wear for Halloween.

Peter looks nervously around for whatever Wade has decided will be the perfect costumes, and when he can’t see anything that only makes it worse.

“What is it this time?” he asks finally, hanging his head in defeat.

“Us! Regular, not sexy us!” he announces spreading his arms and gesturing to the three of them. “We should just go out like this and fight crime like always!”

Matt shrugs agreeably. “I was planning on doing that anyway. The kidnappers and traffickers tend to come out on Halloween.”

“Great, then it’s settled!” Wade says, clapping his hands together. “Spidey, whaddaya say? You got somewhere to be or are you coming with?”

Peter hesitates. “I mean, someone from school is throwing a party, but I wasn’t planning on going.”

“Then I’ll see you both at 6 o’clock on the dot, at the usual place.”


	3. Matt Being Incredibly Lonely for 1300 Words Straight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "tvg: how spatula won matt's heart?"

“What?” Matt says, turning towards the box of cats now placed in the corner of his living room.

Carrying them for two blocks and then climbing up to the roof of his building without being noticed was significantly more difficult than he’d expected, especially with how squirmy the kittens were.

“Meow,” mom-cat says.

“I gave you food. There’s water right there. Can I please go to sleep now?” Matt says, because if dressing up like the devil and getting the shit knocked out of him wasn’t crazy enough, apparently now he’s the kind of person who talks to animals and expects them to reply or even comprehend what he’s saying.

“Mow,” mom-cat says.

“Fine,” Matt sighs, taking off the mask and setting it down on his coffee table before heading to his bedroom and coming back a moment later with a clean t-shirt to put in the cardboard box with the cats. “There? You happy?” he asks.

“Mrrow,” mom-cat concedes, placing her kittens on top of the t-shirt and settling down with them.

Matt sighs and strips out of the rest of the Daredevil costume before placing it back beneath the false bottom in the trunk hidden in the closet. Once he locks the door, he heads out of the room to go shower off all the grime that comes with putting the suit on every night. Before he’d gotten sidetracked with helping Peter find his made-up cats, he’d done quite a bit of damage to a few muggers and a handful of members of the Bulgarian mob.

As he passed back by the living room, Matt tilts his head in the direction of his newly acquired cats.

“Goodnight,” he says.

Mom-cat makes another catlike noise before Matt retires to his bedroom. He considers shutting the door, but as always the door is off the track. He needs to get that fixed, but the building super is starting to get suspicious. Maybe he can bribe Foggy into doing it.

As Matt is laying in bed, contemplating how it is he’s going to get his door fixed (and if he really even needs to), a sound intrudes on his thoughts.

The soft pit-pat of a cat’s feet makes its way across his bedroom floor before making a muffled “Mrrp” noise as it hops up on his bed.

“Hello,” Matt says.

Mom-cat sets one of her tiny, wriggling kittens on the bed a few feet away from him before hopping back down from the bed.

Matt listens to the soft mews of the kitten as it crawls around on his bed and reaches out to stroke it with one finger. A moment later mom-cat hops back up with the same “Mrrp” and places another kitten beside the previous one. She continues until every single one of the kittens is in his bed before curling up between Matt and her babies.

He figured that he’d find her purring to be too loud to sleep through, but in reality it serves as a nice barrier to the other, less pleasant sounds of the city.

He sleeps through the night for once and wakes up to the feeling of a soft tail flicking against his chin.

* * *

The next morning as Matt is getting dressed for work and trying to figure if his glasses do a good enough job of covering up the cut on his cheek from where the mask had cut in when one of the mobsters got a punch in, mom-cat won’t stop winding around his ankles and making her various cat noises up at him.

“I said I’m sorry that I don’t have any cat food,” Matt says as he loops his tie around. “I thought you’d appreciate the organic, free-range, grass-fed chicken.”

“Row,” mom-cat replies.

“I know, how silly of me to assume you have taste,” Matt agrees.

Mom-cat wanders off back to where her kittens are now sitting on a spare blanket Matt tossed on his bed for mom-cat to nest in. She seems to appreciate the gesture well enough judging by the way she has it all nicely bunched up around the kittens.

As Matt is about to head out of the door, he stops. Is it really a good idea to leave six cats completely unattended in his apartment? Six technically feral cats?

No, no it is not.

Matt sighs and heads back to grab the cardboard box.

Before he heads to the office that morning, he stops by a pet store to buy some general cat supplies including a litterbox, cat litter, cat food, and an actual cat carrier. He knows he must be quite the sight to see, walking around in a suit with his cane in one hand and a pet carrier in the other, but this being New York City, he doesn’t get too many strange looks. Most of the people who do look are just trying to see what kind of animal it is he’s carrying.

He manages to get to the office before either Karen or Foggy do, so he’s free to set the cats down in his office and shut the door so that he can let mom-cat roam around and stretch her legs.

Once his business partners do get close enough to hear, Matt’s already been working for a solid hour. He realizes he only has a minute to start the coffee maker before Karen gets there and her horrible excuse for coffee stinks up the whole building, so he heads out of his office to do just that, being sure to shut his office door behind him.

“Hey guys,” Matt says just as the door opens, listening to the way both Foggy and Karen’s hearts start racing.

“_Jesus Christ_,” Foggy gasps, his hand on his chest dramatically. “What the hell are you doing here so early?”

“Working,” Matt replies with a smile, leaning back against the counter. “Aren’t you the one who’s always getting onto me for not doing enough of that?”

“Yes, but you being in the office before nine AM is unheard of. Who are you and what have you done with Matt?”

“Maybe I just decided to get an early start since I didn’t get the shit knocked out of me too bad last night? Spider-Man needed help with something civilian, so I ended up doing that instead of what I normally do at night,” Matt explains just as mom-cat meows from behind his office door.

“What was that?” Karen asks.

“What was what?” Matt replies just a little too fast.

“That sounded like a cat.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Matt says.

“Meooww,” mom-cat says loudly.

Foggy and Karen both head for Matt’s office and pull the door open before he can stop them.

Mom-cat comes trotting out of the room over to where Matt is and stares up at him.

“Meow,” she says.

“Snitch,” Matt says, even as he crouches down to scratch behind her ears.

* * *

Matt isn’t sure why, but when he calls Peter and agrees to keep the cats for another day it puts a smile on his face.

* * *

After another long night of Daredevil-ing, Matt collapses into his bed with a sigh. One person caught him across the ribs with a baseball bat pretty good, and he’s sure that it probably cracked at least one rib. As he’s lying there, doing his best to meditate some of the pain away, he feels a dip in the mattress where mom-cat, now lovingly named Spatula, hops up on his bed.

“Hi,” he says, reaching out to pet the top of her head as she sets one of the kittens down on his bed. He isn’t sure which one considering Foggy and Karen differentiated them by color, and that isn’t exactly helpful for him.

Spatula tilts her head into Matt’s head before hopping off the bed to return with another kitten.

Once all the kittens are placed in bed once again, Spatula curls up beside Matt and butts her head against his jaw gently.

He falls asleep with the sound of her purring drowning out the sirens.


	4. Wade Wilson being a big old softie for 3500 words straight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe its one of their birthdays,,,

Truth be told, the only reason Wade looked the kid up on Instagram in the first place was because he needed to figure out where he’d be and when to prevent him from getting assassinated, but even after the hitman situation was dealt with he found himself checking the kid’s profile every now and then.

Peter posts pretty frequently, but when he does it isn’t like there’s any sort of strongly curated theme. He doesn’t just post aesthetically pleasing pictures of coffee and designer clothes—he posts what’s going on in his life.

There’s a picture taken from a hospital bed in Avenger’s Tower. There’s a picture of a cool looking pigeon. There are multiple pictures of cute dogs he passed on the street, and some dumb selfies with his friends. The thing is, those aren’t the ones that catch Wade’s eye.

The one’s that catch his eye are the off-guard ones of the tall girl he hangs out with. The pictures of the city that had to have been taken while the kid was webbing his way around the city. A shot of the kid’s aunt (she’s his _aunt_? Is she old enough for that?) drinking coffee and sitting on the fire escape. Peter has quite the eye for what makes a good picture, but it’s obvious he doesn’t have anything to take pictures on other than his phone that’s quite a few generations out of date.

Wade has money. Granted, he’s been known to spend it all on plastique explosives so that he can build himself a throne out of them, but right now he has money. He’s also spent a lot of his life being poor—both regular poor and power shut off in the winter, breaking up bits of furniture to burn in a grate in the floor so you don’t freeze to death poor—which is why he knows that the kid won’t accept a gift from him without a good reason. Peter hasn’t talked about being poor exactly, but Wade has heard some of his epic rants about how annoying it is that Stark is always throwing money at his problems and trying to give Peter a new phone or laptop because “this one still works just fine—why would I get rid of it?” That along with the way he hardly ever goes out anywhere (if his Instagram stories are anything to judge by) and wears the same worn but well taken care of clothes almost every time Wade sees him as a real person is enough context for him to get a grasp of the kid’s attitude. It helps that Matt mentioned the kid’s aunt is a nurse and the uncle is dead. Living in New York on a nurse’s salary with a kid? That can’t be easy on the old wallet.

It isn’t until he’s leaning out of Matt’s bedroom window so that he can smoke without bothering the guy that he finally thinks of a time the kid might accept a gift. Peter always says that he’s _almost sixteen_, but there haven’t been any sweet sixteen posts on his Instagram, meaning his birthday is still coming up. The only question is when.

Wade stubs the cigarette out on the brick outside Matt’s window before dropping the butt to the street.

“Hey, when’s the kid’s birthday?” he asks, turning to look at where Matt is lying on his stupid, wonderful silk sheets.

Matt raises his eyebrows. “Considering what your heart just did, that is _not_ the question I was expecting.”

Wade snorts. “Very funny. Seriously though, do you know when it is?”

“August tenth,” Matt answers. “Why?”

Thank god—still a week or so out. “Cause I wanted to get him something. Sixteen is a big deal and all.”

“That’s true,” Matt agrees, pulling himself up into a sitting position. “I’ve been trying to think of something to get him, but I’m not sure what he’d like.”

“I want to get him a camera—one of the really nice ones. You wanna go in together on it for him?” Wade offers.

“Sure—but why a camera?”

“If you could see his Instagram then you’d know,” Wade teases, and Matt snorts.

“Asshole. Well, I don’t know anything about cameras. Do you?” he asks, and shit, Wade doesn’t know anything about cameras.

Matt must be able to read that realization in his pulse or whatever, and the smirk it puts on his face is so incredibly annoying.

“Shut up,” Wade says.

“I didn’t say anything,” Matt replies with the smirk still on his face.

“Yeah, well you didn’t have to.”

Matt must take pity on him for once, because the smirk fades away to a much nicer smile. “Put your clothes back on and I’ll help you track down Jess and get her to tell us about cameras.”

“You really want me to put my clothes back on already?” Wade tries, because he is but a man and asshole-ish smirk or not, Matt’s got it goin’ on.

After a second of consideration Matt says, “No, I guess not.”

* * *

“Okay, seriously, let’s go find Jess and get this figured out,” Matt says eventually as he’s doing up the buttons on his stupid fancy shirt.

Wade gets that matching clothes can be hard—but a suit every day has got to be some form of penance because no way in hell would anyone other than a Catholic willingly do that to themselves.

“Ugh, fine. Give my healing factor a second,” Wade groans.

Matt snorts and throws Wade’s shirt at him. “Don’t be a bitch. I’ve seen you walk off stab wounds quicker than that.”

“Haven’t _seen_ anything,” Wade mutters under his breath, getting his pants thrown at him as well for his efforts.

Once they get down to the street looking like the world’s strangest yet most fitting couple (seriously, a horribly scarred guy and a blind guy—the perfect combination), Wade realizes that he’s the one blindly following after Matt.

“Hey, where are we going? Did you call Jess when I wasn’t looking?” he asks even though he highly doubts that’s the case. With Matt it’s almost always something stranger.

Wade’s hypothesis is proven once again as Matt shakes his head. “I know where she is.”

“… why do you know where she is?”

Matt shrugs. “We were hanging out last night and she mentioned she was getting lunch with her sister today around now. I know the general area she’ll be in, and I can find her from there.”

Freak.

“You’re so fucking weird,” Wade says, and Matt just smiles brightly at him.

He follows after Matt for another two blocks before the man stops abruptly and turns onto the next street then into a café that Wade doesn’t recall seeing the last time he was in this part of the city.

Matt heads straight for a table near the back, and Wade takes his arm so that it at least looks like the blind guy is the one being led.

“Jessica,” Matt says as they come to stand at the edge of a table tucked into a corner.

Jessica looks up from where she had been talking to a blonde lady who looks absolutely nothing like her yet still strangely familiar. Jess groans, and the blonde one just gapes at the two of them. Wade’s used to it, so he just waves at her. She looks embarrassed and immediately tears her eyes away from his face.

Jessica gives them a scrutinizing look and wrinkles up her nose. “Really? You couldn’t even bother taking a shower before you came and tracked me down?”

“We tried,” Wade replies, putting his arm around Matt’s waist and yanking him closer even if it does get him an elbow in the ribs. “We just got distracted.”

“Gross. What do you want?” she says, though she doesn’t actually sound all that grossed out.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends, Jess?” the blonde one asks, but it’s really very clearly a demand.

Jessica sighs. “They aren’t my friends, they’re a pain in my ass. The blind one’s Matt—my lawyer. You’ve met him once,” Matt smiles his charming smile in the blonde’s general direction. “The burn victim is Wade. Assholes, this is Trish. Now, tell me what you want.”

“We need to know about cameras,” Wade chimes in.

“What about them?” she asks.

“What’s a good one for someone who’s new to photography,” Matt asks.

“Sorry Murdock, but no matter how fancy a camera you buy, the pictures are still gonna come out blurry.”

Matt gives her a very flat look. “It’s for Peter. His birthday is coming up.”

Jessica’s demeanor softens a little bit at that, and it’s precious—not that Wade would ever say that out loud. But he’s noticed that at least he isn’t the only one who has a Peter-shaped soft spot in his heart.

“How much are you guys willing to spend?” she asks.

“I just took a job,” Wade says.

Jess nods in understanding. “Foreign or domestic?”

“It was a big one in Brazil.”

“Ah, thought that one might’ve been you. Usually you’re more obvious though,” she says.

“This one called for subtlety. Made the paycheck higher, so I can’t complain too much.”

Trish looks like she’s just dying to ask what Wade’s job is, but she must be smart considering she doesn’t.

“Well, if money isn’t an issue, you can’t go wrong with a Sony Alpha A7 III. It’s around 2000, very beginner friendly, but if he has any trouble with it then I’ll be more than happy to show him how to get started with it,” Jess replies, taking out a pen from her pocket and scribbling something down on a napkin. “Get this lens with it—it shouldn’t be more than 500.”

“You’re a godsend,” Wade says, taking the napkin from her and blowing her a kiss.

Jessica rolls her eyes. “Save it for someone who’ll put out, Wilson.”

“Wonderful talking to you as always,” Matt says. “Nice to meet you properly, Trish.”

“You too,” Trish says with a smile.

Wade and Matt leave the restaurant and trek all the way up to the nearest Best Buy to get their hands on the camera and lens Jess recommended. The sales associate looks at them a bit strangely, and when he asks what they’re going to be using the camera for Matt somehow knows to slam his hand over Wade’s mouth and answer himself. Good choice; Wade’s answer would’ve been nudes.

“Do you know how to wrap presents?” Wade asks, looking at the boxes the camera and lens are in and then looking back to Matt to see the bitchiest look on his face.

“No, I don’t know how to wrap presents, Wade.”

“Well do you know anyone who knows how to wrap presents?”

“Yes,” Matt says with a defeated sigh.

* * *

An hour later, Wade finds himself in a rundown apartment building with a two thousand dollar camera in a bag on one arm and a roll of Spider-Man wrapping paper from the dollar store with Matt standing beside him and knocking obnoxiously on the door.

“I know you’re in there, asshole,” Matt calls out, thumping his fist against the door again. “Stop calling me a bitch under your breath and say it to my face.”

“You’re a bitch,” comes a response that’s loud enough for Wade and his sad, normal hearing to pick up.

“To my face,” Matt repeats.

“I’ll shoot you!” the voice calls back.

“That’s a lie!” Matt says.

There’s silence for a moment followed by the sound of heavy footsteps and the door opening.

“What the hell do you two clowns want?” Frank asks, pinching the bridge of his nose much like a put-out parent.

“We need help wrapping a present for Peter’s birthday,” Matt says.

Frank looks like he just might shoot them both. “And why the hell did you decide to come to me for that?”

“You were the nearest fully functional adult I could think of. Take it as a compliment. Help us wrap the present and we’ll put your name on the card too.”

Frank stares at them for a moment but eventually loses the stare-down with Matt and lets them in.

While wrapping the present, he interrogates them on their choice of gift. Once he gets an answer that he deems suitable for that, he moves on to giving them shit about the choice in wrapping paper. Then he gives Matt shit for something Hell’s Kitchen related that Wade has very little interest in.

“Are you two done flirting?” Wade asks when Matt and Frank are still talking long after the present’s been wrapped.

“Why? Eager to be alone with me again?” Matt shoots back.

Frank gags.

Matt punches him in the shoulder.

They leave after that, and it’s determined that Matt should be the one to keep the camera safe until Peter’s birthday. Wade gets to keep the definitely-not-officially-licensed Spider-Man wrapping paper though, so it’s a pretty fair trade.

* * *

Peter’s apparently got his hand full with a combination of school, his internship, and dealing with the lowlifes of Queens, so Wade doesn’t get a chance to see the kid—either as himself or his alter-ego in the next week. In fact, it isn’t until he’s scrolling aimlessly through Instagram that he sees a picture of a poorly-made cake on the kid’s story and realizes that it’s the tenth. One frantic flurry of text messages to Matt later, he confirms that Matt hasn’t had the chance to see the kid either thanks to being up to his non-functional eyeballs in lawyer work for the entire week.

Matt isn’t a fan of texting, so he elects to call Wade instead of suffering through any more grammatical errors and excessive punctuation.

“Should we bring it to him tonight?” Matt asks.

“I mean, it’s his birthday. I doubt he’s going out as Spider-Man on his sweet sixteen,” Wade points out. “Come on orphan, at least pretend you have a functional knowledge of childhood milestones.”

“I’m flipping you off right now,” Matt says.

“Glad to hear it—wait, he just added to his story again.” Wade taps on the gradient circle surrounding Peter’s profile picture and sees a short video of the kid, his aunt, and the two friends he’s always with at a restaurant. Wade’s pretty sure he actually knows that restaurant, and that’s confirmed when he checks Peter’s location on Snapchat. “He’s like, six blocks from your place. Carmine’s—you ever been there?”

“Ugh—yes. Worst date of my life,” Matt replies, and Wade makes note of that comment so he can wheedle out all the wonderful, cringeworthy details at a later date.

“Great, meet me there. Don’t forget the camera.”

“Don’t forget the card,” Matt shoots back before the line goes dead.

Wade won’t forget the card. He put way too much effort into the card to forget it—including hand-done illustrations and glitter. Rather than bother Dopinder or, god forbid, take the subway, Wade just gets an Uber and talks the poor driver’s ear off the whole way there.

When they pull up outside, Wade sees Matt standing casually outside the restaurant and the driver is more than happy to have the weird, rambling burn victim out of his car.

“Matthew!” Wade calls, pulling Matt into a half hug. “You’re here!”

“Of course I’m here, dumbass,” Matt replies in that charming way of his. “Peter and his people are still inside—let’s go give him the present. Oh, by the way, his aunt thinks I’m his Spanish tutor, and I don’t think either of his friends know who I am either. Let’s keep it that way.”

“Um, well, his friends definitely know who I am, so how are we gonna explain how Deadpool knows his Spanish tutor?” Wade says, and god bless poor Matt for having to keep all these different stories in order. Super-secret identities are a _bitch_.

“I’m Daredevil’s lawyer, I met you through him,” Matt answers.

“Wow, you had that one prepared. Have to use it a lot?”

“More often than you’d think. Come on, it smells like sewage out here,” Matt says, putting his free arm through Wade’s and dragging him towards the restaurant.

Even with Wade on his arm, Matt still manages to charm the maître d’ into escorting them to the Parker’s table.

“Hey, kiddo!” Wade says, loud enough to get the attention of everyone at the table, but not so loud as to draw unwanted attention. Contrary to popular belief, he can manage some sort of subtlety on occasion. “Thought you could ditch out on us on your birthday?”

Peter looks shocked at first and then pleasantly surprised by the two of them. That adorable smile spreads across his face, quite the contrast to the unreadable look on the girl’s face and the awed one on Ned’s. Peter’s aunt is doing a pretty good job of not staring at his general appearance, so props to her.

“Wade—Matt, hi!” Peter says. “What’re you guys doing here?”

“Wishing you a happy birthday. And giving you a reminder—what did I tell you about Snap Maps the first night we met?” Wade says.

“Hitman’s best friend, I know, Wade. You’re one of, like, six people who can see where I am,” Peter answers in a very exasperated ‘yes, dad’ sort of way.

Wade is touched by that, and he puts his hand over his heart.

“Hi, Matt. It’s good to see you again,” the kid’s aunt says with a smile that Matt can get from any woman on the planet. “And Wade, was it? I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you before,” she adds on with a very deliberate look at Peter.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Wade says. “I’m a friend of Peter’s. From work.”

May’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline and she gives Peter another look.

“Um,” Peter says, looking over at Wade who gives him a big ol’ thumbs up. “Deadpool,” he whispers to his aunt.

She looks shocked, and Wade speaks up to fill the silence.

“Anyway, sorry DD couldn’t be here, but you know how much of a bitch he is about his stupid secret identity. He sent his lawyer to serve as a proxy. We come bearing gift.”

Matt sets the nicely wrapped gift onto the table. “Courtesy of my clients.”

Wade sets the card on top of the box and pushes both towards Peter.

Peter picks the card up off of the box and admires Wade’s doodles on the front of it before opening it up to read what Wade wrote inside.

_Hey kid, happy birthday! You might be sixteen, but I’m sure we’ve all stressed you out to the point your heart is in its mid forties. We might be a bunch of dysfunctional alcoholics with the emotional maturity of thirteen year olds, but here’s hoping you’ll be the first of us to break that cycle. With so many examples of what not to do, how hard can it be? Anyway, we’re proud of you for sticking (ha! Get it?) with us. I like to think I’m pretty observant, so I think you’ll be able to put this gift to good use. You can thank Jess for lending her experience in the area to DD and me, and Frank for being the only adult we know who can wrap presents. _

_Happy birthday, webhead. _

_\--Wade, DD, Jess, and last but not least Frank._

Peter smiles up at Wade after reading the card. “Thanks Wade, and tell DD thanks too. And Ms. Jones, and Mr. Castle.”

“I’ll be sure to pass it along,” Matt says with a smile of his own.

Peter sets the card aside very carefully before taking care in opening the package. As soon as he sees the box, the kid just gapes up at Wade.

“This is too much,” he says, and Wade is reassured in his choice of waiting for a special occasion to give the gift.

“Baby-child, there’s nothing I’d rather do with my paycheck from murdering a druglord and burning down his empire than get you something you’ll undoubtedly put to good use,” Wade replies, earning himself a rather horrified look from the kid’s poor aunt.

Rather than being disturbed by Wade’s declaration, Peter gets up from his place at the table and flings himself into Wade to hug him.

“Thank you,” Peter mumbles where his face is smushed up against Wade’s chest.

Wade smiles down at him.

“You’re welcome, kid.” 


	5. Peter Parker with a dog 1200 words straight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter meets Lucky the pizza dog in TVG?

Peter hardly ever finds himself in Brooklyn. It’s not that he has a problem with the place—it’s just that he spends 80% of his waking hours slingshotting back and forth between Queens and Manhattan either as Peter Parker going to the Stark Internship or Spider-Man going to meet with any one of his various superhero contacts, most frequently Daredevil and Deadpool though. But for once he’s made time to go out and do something other than his obligations to society.

Peter isn’t quite sure how Wade picked up on it, but the camera really was the perfect gift. He used to love taking pictures with the little digital camera that May and Ben got him for the photography class he took in eighth grade. It was a good camera, but a combination of Peter’s hideously bad luck and clumsiness doomed it to a watery death in one of the many ponds of Central Park shortly before Ben passed away. They hadn’t had the money to get another one then, and Peter hadn’t really been in much of a mood for doing much of anything what with the emerging superpowers and Ben dying.

A couple days after Wade and Matt showed up to his birthday dinner to deliver an incredibly nice camera, Peter is desperate to take it out and use it. Taking pictures of the city is good and well, but for this occasion, Peter wants a subject who might actually follow his directions, unlike the city itself.

Peter feels incredibly awkward asking MJ if she’ll let him photograph her, and after one of her dead-pan delivery jokes that sends Peter’s heart into his throat, she agrees to it. Despite it being incredibly mainstream, MJ agrees to go to Williamsburg because there’s a food truck that hangs out there and apparently has the world’s best chicken and waffles, and she’s been wanting to try them for a while.

Peter buys her chicken and waffles and takes pictures of her and they talk and laugh and have a good time. He’s honestly not sure, but he thinks that it just might possibly _maybe_ be a date. And if it _is_ a date then he’s… he’s really okay with that.

Peter’s practically on the ground taking a picture of MJ sitting on someone’s brick steps when the spidey sense starts up with a barely-there tingle.

“Peter? What is it?” MJ asks as he stands up and sets the camera on the lowest step. She’s gotten really good at telling when the spidey sense is going off.

“I’m not sure,” he mumbles, turning to look at the street.

Nothing is happening. Cars are stopped at traffic lights, people are using crosswalks. Peter’s just about to write it off as something like a used needle in a nearby alley until a dog shoots out of an alley about ten feet away from them and runs straight into the road with the now-moving traffic.

“Oh shit,” Peter says because the stupid dog just stops in the road and there’s a car coming right at it.

He doesn’t even think about it before running out into the street and grabbing the dog just before someone who is _definitely_ texting and driving plows right through the spot where the dog was.

Peter’s standing there on the sidewalk, now across the street from MJ, with an easily seventy-pound dog in his arms, and of course, of-fucking-course, the people who saw what happened actually applaud. Peter feels like he’s in a bad Tumblr post as he watches MJ lift up his camera and take a picture of him.

The dog actually seems surprisingly okay with being carried around as Peter makes his way to the nearest crosswalk to head back over to MJ. The dog is totally drooling all over his arm, and he can feel its tail thumping against his side.

MJ continues to take pictures until he’s back with her, and she smiles at him.

“Wow Peter, you’re a real hero now,” she teases, taking a step forward to scratch behind the dog’s ears.

She reaches down to the dog’s collar and looks over the tag, snorting as she does. “Says his name is Lucky. Pretty accurate.”

“Does it say where he lives?” Peter asks, adjusting his hold on the dog slightly so it at least looks like he’s struggling with the weight.

“Ummm, yeah—it does,” MJ answers as she turns the tag over and puts the address from it into her phone. “It’s like half an hour away. You good to carry him?”

“As long as you can carry the camera,” Peter replies.

“Deal.”

They laugh and joke on their way over, Peter grimacing at the way the dog’s drool slowly starts to soak his sleeve through.

“What do you think happened to his eye?” MJ asks, petting the dog’s head as they walk.

“I dunno. Probably just got an infection and had to get it removed. That happens a lot,” Peter replies.

“Lame. Where’s your sense of story? I think he lost it fighting the Russian mafia.”

Peter snorts at that. “Oh so now the dog’s a bigger hero than me, is he?”

“Maybe. Not sure if he’s cuter though,” MJ replies, and Peter blushes up to his hairline.

Their destination ends up being a pretty innocuous apartment building, and MJ is the one who steps forward to ring the buzzer for the apartment listed on the dog’s collar.

A man’s voice answers after about a minute of MJ mashing the button.

“Shit—fuck—uh, yes? Hello?” he says.

“We found your dog,” MJ says.

“Describe him,” the guy says.

“Uh, the tag says Lucky, big, yellow, one eye, drooling all over my friend, purple collar,” MJ says.

“Oh hell yeah!” the guy says. “Come on in.”

The guy buzzes them in, and MJ and Peter share a look.

“If he ends up being a weirdo then I think I can handle it,” Peter says as they head up to the right apartment.

“You ever fought while holding a dog?”

“Nah, but how hard can it be?”

They get to the apartment, and MJ knocks on the door before stepping back.

A big blond guy with a black eye and a lot of butterfly bandages on his face opens the door.

“Lucky!” he says, and Peter sets the dog down on the floor. It immediately runs over to the guy and bounces around him.

“Mr. Barton?” Peter says.

Clint looks up from his dog. “Oh hey Pete! You found my dog?”

“Found him in the middle of the road about to get run over,” MJ says.

“Lucky!” Clint scolds. “I thought you knew that cars were bad!”

“Alright well, it’s nice to see you Mr. Barton, but we gotta head out,” Peter says. “You should keep a better eye on your dog—considering that’s your whole thing,” he tacks on in a joking tone.

Clint snorts. “I’ll do my absolute best.”

Peter and MJ head back down after that and start walking in the general direction of the way they came from.

“So, how did you know that guy?” MJ asks as Peter’s taking her picture by an interesting bit of graffiti.

“Oh, that was Hawkeye.”

“The Avenger?”

“Yep.”

“Huh,” MJ says. “He was less put together than I expected.”

“Most of the heroes are like that.”

“Huh.”

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is dumbbitchnumberone so hit me up there to see more of these things and send me ask prompts of your own some time


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